Shadow Marvel
by Shadow Master
Summary: BtVSMarvelkindaNow please be kind. This is an attempt by me to create a Marvel universe all my own. Characters and elements will be taken from various parts of the Marvel Multiverse and incorporated into it. This is my first attempt so no flames.


"Shadow Marvel" by Shadow Master aka Ryley Breen

email: ryley[underscorebreen[athotmail[dotcom

Beta notes – alright, a little something; while the use of 'he' is useful, sometimes you need to use Xander's name, as it gets confusing when it's switching back and forth between he's. Another thing is the sentences – you're typing the sentence and then writing intermediate stuff before starting with another sentence. Example – "He saw the cat." Xander said, "And it was black." Oz said… Flip it around, end the first sentence with the comma and then … "He saw the cat," Xander said. "And it was black," Oz said.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted material contained herein. They are the rightful property of their creators and associated companies. I make no profit from this fan fiction but rather write it for the enjoyment of both myself and those who choose to read it.

Note: I know, I know, **I KNOW** that I promised that I would put forth more effort towards finish works that I have already started and hold off on creating brand new ones! However when this idea struck me I was overcome with such creative energy that I could not resist it nor reduce it to a mere drabble/short for my "Dreams and Ideas" fanfic. The idea demanded nothing less than the status of an official fanfic and so it shall be. **What** it shall be is my attempt to create an original Marvel Universe using elements from the various versions that Marvel Comics has spawned over the years. From Ultimate Marvel to Mainstream Marvel to the alternate realities that have been created from changes in the mainstream universe's timeline all of these will I draw elements from to shape my Marvel universe. However even I know that this is a rather enormous task so I am willing to ask you the readers for some assistance. I will write the baseline chapter one from which the rest will spring but you will be able to contribute ideas on where I should take it or what form recognizable Marvel characters will take. The only stipulation will be that the suggestions must take into account previous chapters and be factually consistent with those chapters. Basically don't suggest anything that will have readers referring to chapter such-and-such to point out conflicting facts.

I will consider each suggestion that comes my way and if I take a liking to it I will integrate it into my Shadow Marvel Universe permanently. With that said let the curtain rise and the show begin… **Excelsior!!**

**(This will begin at the start of the third season of BtVS but before Buffy's return)**

Shadow Marvel 

Throughout the endless reaches of the galaxy there exists numerous species, uncountable phenomena and events that are incomprehensible to even the most sophisticated of minds. Even those beings that embody the very forces that make up reality itself are limited in what they can perceive and so there are things that even they do not know. However there are means by which some beings can look past the barriers between realities for a look at what might have been. It is by those means that I am able to bear witness to the uncountable variations in which events may occur in my assigned region of space.

I am Uatu, the Watcher. Appointed to this sector of space to record all momentous events but sworn never to interfere.

In a remote area of the sector that I watch lays a world called Earth by its inhabitants and, while primitive when compared to most other worlds, it continues to draw my attention from time to time. I have seen evil rise and champions fall numerous times. I have viewed various alternate routes that events on this world might have taken had, but one variable been different. In almost all cases certain events, certain people and the choices they make remain unmistakably the same, but this is not always the case for, on rare occasions, I have spied upon alternate realities where the history of Earth is almost completely different from what I have seen before. People who came into being, who lived and died in their hometown for one reason or another, who were driven by destiny to find their fates elsewhere. Men and women who were destined to fall in love in the majority of realities I have viewed fail to meet at the crucial moment in which their futures would have intertwined. Teams that would have gone on to become legends fail to come together at the appointed time. It is in the universe, which I have dubbed 'Universe 696', that serves as an example of this rare anomaly in which one can be the exception to the majority.

In this reality, events transpire that occur only here despite the uncountable dimensions that exists alongside it. It is an Earth on the cusp of a new age, where words like 'mutants' and 'superheroes' do not exist as of yet. However that is about to change, for it is in this reality that events take a course quite different from those I have viewed before. Surprisingly enough, the beginnings of this change comes in the most unlikely of forms imaginable, that of a teenage male human, one Alexander LaVelle Harris.

In the majority of realities I have examined, this young man leads a fairly unremarkable life until one day he meets the current Slayer of his time, Buffy Anne Summers. Through meeting her he is introduced to the darker side of the world, the world of vampires and demons, which becomes a defining moment for him when his brother in all but blood is turned by a vampire. From that moment on he dedicates his life to fighting by her side and protecting the world from a threat few know exists. In most realities this battle would extend for seven years in Sunnydale before its destruction prompts Alexander and his friends to relocate so that they may reform the Council of Watchers and begin their battle anew.

In this reality, though, events have chosen to take a different turn. This change could either result in great prosperity for the planet Earth or send it spiraling down the path to its own total destruction. In this reality, events are now unfolding that will force young Alexander to leave his hometown of Sunnydale due to his age and the law. Shall I tell you what I learned in this reality?

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Sunnydale California, Evening, Walking Down Cain Avenue 

"So do you think that Snyder's going to start tomorrow off on the wrong foot and actually be nice to us for once?" Xander asked his bestest bud Willow as they head towards his house.

The genius redhead just looked at him as though he had just said he was going to show up for class tomorrow and pay attention to everything that the teachers said.

"Yeah, I figured as much." He stated after receiving her answer, "The only time that troll is ever nice to someone is when it makes him look good."

"Still, maybe we'll get lucky and he'll get eaten this year like Principal Flutie was." Willow said with a little too much snark in it to be natural.

"Yikes! When did you start thinking vengeful thoughts about authority figures?" He asked, since the comment she made was completely out of character for his friend.

"What? I can't think nasty thoughts about that impotent troll all of a sudden?" Willow asked, sounding annoyed that her friend thought her incapable of acting like a normal teenager.

"Well… it's just… I just figured that if it was possible you would've done it sooner." He replied as he realized he had poked his big toe over the line just a bit, "Like when Mrs. Parker gave you that B minus for that English paper you wrote on the Salem witch trials last year. I thought for sure that you'd have told her off the second you got the paper, but you were cool as a cucumber the rest of the day."

"Well I was mad at her for awhile but then I heard from Mr. Jones the history teacher that Mrs. Parker's family lived in Salem during the witch trials, so I figured that my paper probably touched a sore spot with her." Willow said with a much less annoyed voice now that she understood where her friend was coming from.

"Well that would explain why she always… hey do you smell smoke?" He asked mid-sentence as his olfactory senses picked up something that always meant trouble one way or another.

Looking about the immediate area, trying to locate where the smoke was coming from, he soon spotted a column of smoke rising up into the air and it looked like it was coming from the next street over. At first, while enough to cause him concern, he didn't think to much of the sight, but when he tried to deduce what might be on fire, his mind came to a conclusion that caused him to break into a run for the source of the smoke. He barely even heard Willow's exclamation of surprise as he raced in the direction of the smoke, praying the entire time that his deductive skills were the same as his math skills. However as he turned the corner, he found that for once in his life he was right but oddly enough couldn't say what he was feeling because of that. After all, how do you really react to turning the corner and seeing your entire house in flames? Almost on autopilot, he walked forward towards the burning remains of the place he called home. All around the house the local fire department fought valiantly to try and put out the blaze and while progress was slow, they were gradually managing to extinguish the blaze. For him though, he only peripherally noticed this because all of his attention was focused on the burning house-shaped mass before him. There were at least three different emotions playing about inside his soul and each was such that it kept the other two from gaining dominance.

One was acceptance, since he had known for a while now that sooner or later the filthy habits of his parents would doom them all. After all, a home inhabited by drunken slobs and one teenage guy can only be expected to hold up for so long before something blew up in their faces. Whether it was the abundance of alcohol in the house, the impaired judgment of the drunken parents or the cleanliness of the house and that was barely at tolerable levels thanks to efforts by him to keep it semi-respectable. You have a fire marshal look the place over and, under normal circumstances, you'd have him charging Tony and Jessica Harris with gross negligence and multiple violations of various safety or health codes. However this was Sunnydale, so that pretty much meant that none of the places with 'Department' in the name did more than they absolutely had to do in order to keep the majority of the populace satisfied. So to him it was pretty much what he expected to happen sooner or later.

Number two emotion was a real surprise, given how Tony and Jessica had treated him over the years: grief. For as long as he could remember, they had treated him either as a slave indebted to them just for being allowed to live in the same house as them or as the cause of all their problems. Due to these two environmental parameters, he had not had the best home life and treasured whatever time he could spend with his friends someplace else. When he had been with Willow or Jesse's families, he could almost pretend that they were his as well and forget about the hellhole he was forced by law to live in. Oh, he had thought multiple times about fighting back or reporting them for child abuse, but in the end he knew he was just 'that loser's kid' as far as everyone else was concerned. Later, when he had learned the truth about what went on in Sunnydale, he had an even bigger reason to not expect anything from the people in authority around him. After all, a town that turned a blind eye to vampires, demons and the forces of badness would almost certainly ignore the cries of abuse from the son of the town drunks. Yet despite all that, there remained a part of him that still cared about his parents, still wanted to protect them from harm and make them happy, like a true son would. It was that part of him that looked at the blazing inferno in front of him and knew that they were gone because he hadn't been there to protect them from themselves.

The last emotion though was fear, fear of what would come next, because now he was literally without a home or any significant possessions. Most of what he could technically call his had been in his basement room, with only a few bits and pieces being elsewhere because Willow or one of the gang asked to borrow something from him. Aside from those bits and pieces that survived by simply being elsewhere, all he had were the clothes on his back to call his own. Add to that the fact that he wasn't exactly eighteen yet and that meant he couldn't just live by himself somewhere. He'd probably be put into the foster care system or something and shipped off to who knows where to live with who knows who. He'd have to leave behind the gang and that was the one thing that terrified him the most. Over the past two years they had been a crucial part of his life by making the stuff he went through at home more tolerable. To now be threatened with the likelihood of being separated from them made demons look like fuzzy bunnies by comparison. There was a chance, he knew, that maybe Mrs. Summers or Willow's parents might step forward and volunteer to adopt him or something. In fact that was the route he would like things to take, since the only change that would really mean for him was a change of address and a few new roommates. However his ever-present awareness of the Harris family luck warned him that things rarely turned out for the better where he was concerned. Whether it be school, finding a job or trying to fight alongside his friends, he always skated on the line between complete failure and barely acceptable success. All in all, he was likely in for a new life someplace else with people who would barely tolerate his existence and who would probably put him to work anyway they could.

"Hey! You can't go in there!" Came the voice of one of the firemen who had noticed his approach.

It had little effect on him but it was enough to make him a little more aware of his surroundings and a little less focused on the three-way pile up in his soul. He found that he was just a few steps shy away from the sidewalk in front of his house and, had he gone any further, he would have been shoulder to shoulder with the firemen trying to put out the blaze that had engulfed his house.

"But this is my house." He stated with an almost emotionless tone that bordered on robotic.

"Well now it's an inferno and I can't let you go in there. That brewery of a home has already claimed two lives under my watch and I am not about to let it claim a third." the fireman said as he grabbed Xander by the arm and pulled him back towards the relative safety of the growing crowd.

"My parents?" He asked at the mention of the fire killing two people already.

This seemed to cause the fireman to soften a bit as the bearded man no doubt realized now what the teenager in front of him must be going through.

"I'm sorry kid. Looks like they were in the place when the fire started. They were already dead when my men got to them." The fireman said with genuine sympathy, "It wasn't a pretty sight kid. Just stay back here 'cause we're gonna need a statement from you later."

"Yeah… sure." He managed to get out despite the numbness that seemed to course through his body.

There he did stand for a full hour until the bums in blue said they wanted him to come down the police station and fill out a report on it all. He didn't realize it until later but thankfully that asshole Stein was on vacation at the moment or they probably would have tried to pin the fire on him somehow. That was the one thing that the entire gang pretty much agreed upon when it came to Detective Stein - whenever a crime happened where a Scooby or two was present, the man would do his level-headed (or, well, un-level-headed, if that was an actual term) best to pin it all on them, regardless of the lack of incriminating evidence. Still, by the time he walked out of the police department and hopped into the Summers family car, the fact that he was now without a home resurfaced. But he **didn't** brood about it. NO. After all, he wasn't Deadboy and he'd stake **himself** through the heart before he'd ever pick up one of overbite's habits. Instead he would carefully contemplate his future and all the possible ways it could go wrong. That was completely different from brooding.

Right?

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Ten Days Later, Office of Landon, Larson and Lake, Close to Sunset 

"Mr. Harris! I am glad you could make it." Mr. Larson said as he got out from behind his desk and extended a hand to shake, "I understand what a trying couple of days it's been what with you parents' deaths and all. I understand that there was a surprising number of people in attendance at their funeral service yesterday."

"Yeah, there were a few extra people." He said without elaborating on the details of it all.

The truth of the matter was that the extra people that showed up weren't there because they actually gave a shit about the 'dearly departed', but rather because it made them look good in the eyes of people they did care about. Some were co-workers of his parents, who he knew for a fact hated both Tony and Jessica, who thought that showing up at a fellow employee's funeral would make them look caring and honorable. Others were firefighters who had tried and failed to rescue the two Harris adults and failed. They wanted to come by and pay their respects to ease the guilt they felt for not being able to make the big save where it counted. Finally Buffy, Willow, Oz and even Cordy's parents showed up to extend their deepest sympathies for his loss, although it looked like Mr. and Mrs. Chase just wanted it for photo op purposes. All in all he felt it was safe to say that there was not a single soul in all of Sunnydale that would miss Tony and Jessica Harris, with the possible exceptions being the booze shops and bars.

_After all, who wouldn't miss the two people who had probably dropped enough money in their businesses to put their kids through college or make a down payment on a condo?_ He thought to himself as he took Mr. Larson's hand and shook it.

"Now you're probably wondering why I was so insistent that you come down here right?" Larson asked but he didn't even wait for a reply before continuing, "Well, I've recently been going over your father's will, as part of my job as his lawyer, and about an hour before I called you I came across a rather bizarre stipulation that pertains to you."

"Are we talking about an 'oh boy!' kinda bizarre or is this more of an 'oh shit!' kind of bizarre?" He asked, not liking the fact that ol' Tony might have one last parting shot at his son from beyond the grave.

"Welllll… how about I just tell you what it is and then you can make your own call on that?" Larson replied, obviously not wanting to state his opinion on such a touchy subject, "According to the terms set down by Anthony James Harris June the 15th of 1995, if anything were to happen to him and Jessica before you reached the age of eighteen, custody of you would be turned over to his younger brother effective immediately."

"Brother? I didn't know Tony had a brother besides Rory," Xander said, feeling like he'd been struck by a medicine ball.

"Neither did I, but I checked it out through my sources and it appears to be the truth." Larson stated, showing that he was just as surprised about this fact as Xander was, "Apparently Tony was the older brother of none other than J. Jonah Jameson, who currently lives in New York City."

"That name sounds familiar." He said as a weak but definitely present light bulb switched on in his head, "Something to do with a newspaper or something."

"Good memory, Xander. Better than my own kids, who don't bother to remember anything that doesn't have to do with the latest boy band or what part of his body to get pierced next." Larson said with barely veiled disappointment in his kids, "J. Jonah Jameson is the Publisher of one of New York City's most famous newspapers called the Daily Bugle. A bit of a cheapskate and pessimist when it comes to people, but other than that Jameson sounds like an okay fellow."

It was with the word 'cheapskate' that a memory locked into place and a bit of supportive evidence presented itself when he recalled Tony throwing the phone across the room before ranting for an hour straight about some 'cheapskate' that wouldn't send him any money 'even after all I've done for him'. At the time he'd assumed it was just some fellow drunk or co-worker that Tony knew and that the elder Harris was trying to squeeze money out of the guy to feed his booze habit. After all, the prick ranted for an hour straight and the only thing he'd ever known to get Tony this worked up was when it involved booze and the difficulty in getting it. He'd pretty much forgotten about it up until now, but with this new bit of info, his disgust with his father went up another notch, since what kind of big brother goes to such lengths to get booze that he tries to bully his kid brother into sending money. If it wasn't for the fact that this would take him away from Sunnydale and all his friends, he might actually think of this as a good thing. After all, anyone who runs their own newspaper so successfully had to be better than Tony and perhaps this Jameson guy might actually be someone worth respecting.

Still there was still the underlying fact that if this whole custody thing went through then he'd still be forced to leave Sunnydale and his friends behind. While he'd certainly take the whole 'just pay the support fees and let me stay here' way of doing things, he somehow doubted that the law would let that happen. Still, since he had a lawyer in the room, he could at least check and see if there was any legal loophole he could use so he could stay with his friends.

"I don't suppose you know any way I can stay here in Sunnydale do you?" He asked, trying to put an honest foot forward, "All my friends are here."

"Not off the top of my head but I'll look into it if you want me too." Larson replied with equal honesty, "I can't guarantee I'll find anything, what I've read thus far in your father's will is surprisingly thorough on this point, but as my last official act as your family's lawyer, I'll see if there's some legal loophole that can allow you to stay here."

"Thanks, Mr. Larson." He said as he shook the man's hand.

"From what I know of these things it'll be three or four days before this 'last wish' of your father's will legally have to be carried out. I'll put my other cases on hold and go over the will with a fine tooth comb." Larson said as he escorted the orphaned Harris to the office door, "In the mean time, I think you should prepare for the worst just in case."

"Sure." He said with sorely lacking enthusiasm.

With that he left the office of his family's lawyer and began walking towards the high school, where he figured the rest of the gang would be at the moment. While they had given him some room to cope with his new situation, they still kept him updated with what was going on in the good fight. At the moment they were all still enjoying the summer lull, in which demons and the forces of badness took a break after world ending season came to an end, however all of them knew that once the first day of school came things would start picking up again. It was probably the reason why Willow had been hoping that Buffy would show up again sometime soon. While the Scoobies were good enough to take on the odd vampire and with some careful planning, a fairly strong demon, none of them harbored any illusions about being able to do the Slayer's job for her. There were just some things that a group of teenagers and a librarian just couldn't hope to beat no matter what they tried. Most modern weapons that they had access to were ineffective against vamps and demons, forcing them to rely on more traditional implements of death. Magic was likewise limited, since most spells that could be done at a moment's notice were too weak to be useful and the more powerful mojo required preparation time. Sadly, he doubted very much if they'd ever come across a demon stupid enough to stand still while Willow or Giles performed ritual or spell to kill it.

_A few of 'em do come close though!_ He thought as he let out a slight chuckle at some of the more mentally challenged demons the Scoobies had come across during the summer.

He was just passing Mikey's Pizzeria when an arm shot out of the alleyway between the pizzeria and a neighboring health food restaurant and latched onto him. He barely had time to comprehend this before he was yanked into the shadowed area between the two buildings and thrown into a nearby dumpster. Only the fact that the metal box was completely empty and thus easily moved kept him from getting knocked out completely by the impact. As it was, it was about three seconds before his head cleared enough to take in what kind of trouble he'd tripped into this time. Looking up he saw a vamp who apparently had been caught outside during the day and had not been able to find a way get out of the alley without being ashed by the sun. The part of that scenario that was bad for him was the fact that the walking corpse looked hungry and probably thought he made for a good start on breakfast. Scrambling to his feet, he looked everywhere for something wooden that he could break into a passable stake, but unfortunately they alleyway was completely bare of anything useful. There wasn't even a **pencil** for him to use and that meant he was seriously behind the eight ball at the moment and would need a serious stroke of good luck to get out of this intact.

_Guess it's time to see if years of playing hallway tag with the jocks is worth anything!_ He thought to himself as he charged the vamp head on, intent of pulling a feint zig but really zagging with the hopes of getting back to the sunlit streets.

Unfortunately, completely unknown to him, the vamp that had snagged him had been the star linebacker of his college football team and had been all set for a shot at the pros before he'd been turned. Therefore, he'd seen the feint zig for what it was and had been ready for the zag in advance, grabbing the Xan-man by the arm once again and throwing him back up against the dumpster.

"Nice try, meat! A little more practice and you might've been good enough to get a scholarship at Notre Dame." The vamp said with mock respect as it closed in on its prey, "Too bad you'll be pushing up daises in about five minutes!"

"Fuck you, ash hole!" He managed to growl out, wishing for the entire world and with everything he had, that someone would put a stake through the idiot fang boy's heart.

He wanted it so back he could practically see the stake in his mind's eye going right through the walking corpse's heart.

What happened next was something that caused him to seriously re-evaluate his opinion that the higher powers hated his guts. Less than a second after he'd imagined a stake flying through the air and piercing the vamp's heart, a golden stake that looked like it was made out of pure energy blossomed from the corpse's chest, right where the heart would be. Both he and the vamp gaped at this new development for a moment before the undead dude crumbled to a pile of dust on the alleyway floor. In his case, though, Xander continued to gape at the turn of events and it wasn't until his watched beeped to tell him that it was seven in the evening that he snapped out of it. Jumping to his feet, he looked about the immediate area, trying to see who the hell had saved him from being an early evening vamp snack, but there was no one else there besides him.

_O-kay! Seriously close to freakin' out here! _He thought to himself as he walked distractedly towards the sidewalk in front of the pizzeria.

Had some wish demon overheard him thinking about a stake going through the vampire's heart? Possible, but not likely, given that most demons tended to cheer others of their kind along when they were about to do something evil. If that was not the case, then perhaps it was some higher and more benevolent power, but given how such beings rarely got off their lazy asses and lent the Scoobies a hand, he very much doubted it. After all, he had been fighting the good fight with Buffy and the others for the better part of two years and he had yet to see a sign of the forces of light from some higher plane of existence contribute anything. This led him back to where he started this train of thought, at which was the question of how the stake made out of light pierced the vamps chest and dusted it. Unfortunately his limited knowledge of all things weird also limited the possible scenarios he could come up with on his own, with the majority of them being based on his knowledge of sci-fi.

In the end, though, it was clear that there was only one way to get some kind of answer for such a strange occurrence.

He had to talk to Giles.

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Sunnydale High School, Library, Half Hour Later 

"A-and you say that this energy stake just pierced through his chest moments after you envisioned it?" Giles asked, trying to use his considerable knowledge to deduce what had happened to his young comrade.

"Yeah. Any idea what happened?" He asked the Watcher, hoping that like so many times before, G-Man would be able to give him a positive answer.

"Unfortunately with only 'light stake' and fortuitous timing to work with, I am afraid it could be any one of a number of possibilities," Giles replied, taking his glasses off to give them a good polish before putting them back on. "I will have to do some research, but in the meantime I suggest you exercise a little more caution when walking around Sunnydale. If some other being is responsible for saving you from the vampire, it would likely be unwise to force its intervention more than is absolutely necessary."

"Don't worry, G-Man, I promise to be more careful in the future," he said before recalling a fact that caused his mood to dip considerably. "Though it might wind up being muggers and pickpockets I'll have to be worried about two weeks from now."

"What do you mean?" Giles asked, genuinely puzzled about what the founding male member of the Scooby gang had just said.

"Before I got grabbed by that vampire I was talking with Mr. Larson, my dad's lawyer, and according to him, it was one of the things in the will that if anything happened to him and my mom before I hit eighteen that I be handed off to my uncle." He replied, once again having to think about the possibility of being forced to leave everything he knew behind thanks to that bastard Tony, "So unless Mr. Larson finds a loophole in the next four days, my new address is going to wind up being New York City."

To this both of them could only stay still and silent, since they knew that if he was forced to leave then the Scooby gang roster was going to go down again. It would essentially leave only Willow and Giles to keep the club open, but he personally hoped that it would get an old member back sooner or later. While he certainly didn't like the fact that Buffy had jumped ship after the whole mess with Angelus and Acathla, he could understand it to a limited degree. He hadn't been much better after the vamp version of his buddy Jesse had been slain and that had been done by accident. While openly he'd claim that he did the right thing in the end and staked the vamp, he knew that the truth of the matter was that some fleeing Bronze patrons had **pushed** vamp Jesse onto the stake he'd been holding. Right up until that last moment he had hesitated, refusing to let go of the flicker of hope that somewhere deep inside the corpse standing in front of him, Jesse was still there, and if it hadn't been for those fleeing teenagers he'd probably have been vamp Jesse's first meal. So taking that into consideration, he could only imagine how hard it must have been for Buffy to finally dust Angelus and then live with her decision.

In fact, the only thing he really had beef with really was her obsession over having a normal life. He knew that life as the Slayer wasn't all fun and games, that sometimes it got so bad that the calling was more a form of torture than an honor, but trying to be someone you couldn't be only caused trouble. For better or for worse, Buffy was the Slayer and the more she fought that, the more trouble she'd get into or somehow cause for everyone else. He just wished that she'd just accept that a normal life wasn't in the cards for her. She might be able to come close to normal, but her calling as the Slayer would always be there to force her to throw in some add-ons to make it work. The sooner she saw that, the sooner things would get better. Maybe not all the way better, but definitely a step up from where they were now. However he figured it would take a serious shock to her system before she'd finally give up her 'normal life obsession' and he just hope it didn't wind up costing the gang too much.

"W-well, while I may have never actually met Mr. Larson, I have heard some rather encouraging things about him," Giles said as he decided to be the one to break the silence. "In the mean time, I suppose you would like to be brought up to date with the latest uncovered threat in Sunnydale?"

"Sure thing, G-man! Give me the 411 on the newest big bad." He said, eager to get his mind off of any depressing or potentially frustrating topics.

"Well there's been a sighting of a white skinned man lurking around the Addams cemetery with what Oz described as a blood red diamond in the center of his forehead." Giles said slipping into lecture mode, "From what Oz could tell the man seemed content to merely observe the group's slaying activities but considering his disturbing appearance and the fact that when Oz attempted to engage him in conversation the man literally vanished into thin air, it is best to err on the side of caution."

"So we got Mr. Pale Face doing his stalker thing on us while the gang is engaged in some slayage. I suppose this means that you'll be getting on the phone with your Brit buddies to see if they've heard of this guys, Willow will surf the net and I'll take a spin by Willy's to see if he's heard anything." He said already putting together a clever strategy to make the Snitch cough up the info without having to get physical.

"I don't know if that is such a good idea, Xander." Giles said with concern in his voice, "Given the patrons that usually frequent that bar, they might take issue with you asking questions. You wouldn't have Buffy there to help you if things got out of hand."

"Don't worry, Giles. I'll go during the day when most of the baddies are asleep in their crypts and keep my voice low so no one can hear what I'm saying." He said, trying to reassure Sunnydale's resident Watcher, "It'll be a quick Q&A on any new players that've come to town and then I'll be gone."

"Very well. However do not push your luck too far, Xander." Rupert said with a somewhat accepting look on his face, "As I said a few moments ago, we don't know who or what it was that saved you from that vampire but it would probably be best if you didn't push your luck with it."

"I won't," he said as he decided he'd pick up a few useful items before heading to Willy's Place.

_Hmmmmm. Flash-bang or tear gas?_ He thought to himself as he tried to decide what to bring and what to leave behind, _Tough choice._

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Three Days Later, Giles' Apartment, Early Evening 

"So anything new on Mr. Pale Face?" Xander asked as the collective members of the Scooby gang sat in the British Watcher's apartment.

"Not much, I'm afraid. I did a search for any real estate purchases over the last few months and talked to the people who did the selling, but the closest I came was a man named Nathaniel Essex." Willow said while pulling up the relevant file on her laptop, "About a month before we spotted Mr. Diamond Head in the cemetery, he bought an entire mansion on the outskirts of town. Big brick wall around it, couple of acres of land and a cutting edge security system."

"You got a picture of this Essex guy?" Xander asked, leaning over a bit from his spot next to her to see what was on the computer screen in her lap.

"Unfortunately no. It's not a prerequisite for buying a house and it'll take me another day or so to sift through the various databases to get some info on the guy." Willow replied, not sounding happy that she had so little on Essex at the moment, "You manage to squeeze anything new out of Willy?"

"Nah! Just the same old 'new guy giving the demons the heebie jeebies' bit he did the first time." He replied, recalling how Willy had stuck to his line even with a Colt 1911 pressed to his head, "If the demons've heard anything, they're keeping a tight lid on it even when tanked on booze."

"Yes, well, it would seem that for the moment all we can do is keep an eye out for our mystery man and be extra cautious while on patrol." Giles said, barely managing to keep the bulk of his worry out of his voice, "If this newcomer is able to cause such a stir among the demonic community, I shudder to think of what he might be capable of."

"Definitely. When scary things get scared, it is most definitely not of the good." He stated in complete agreement with the Watcher.

It was never a promising sign when demons that were scary enough on their own, both in appearance as well as strength, began shaking in fear at a new arrival. Just like most baddies, demons obeyed or feared only those who were more powerful than themselves and if that was true, then Mr. Essex had just about everyone beat. Definitely not something to be happy about, since it meant that without Buffy here to provide the extra muscle a fight between the Scoobies and the newcomer would not be fun at all.

"Well now, that we all know that we have a fat load of zilch on the new guy, we should probably get ready for patrol." He said, getting up from the couch and heading for the chest that held Giles' weapons, "While Willy wasn't able to give me any info on Mr. Pale Face, he was able to tell me about a pack of hellhounds that are coming this way tonight. Apparently some big wigs in L.A had ordered a large number of them for some kind of pit fight and they got loose two weeks ago."

"Did Willy say from which direction they would come?" Giles asked, interested in this tidbit that the Xan-man had revealed.

"The east, which means they'll probably hit the motels first and then hit the residential areas of town." Xander said as he tested the weight of both an axe and a mace in his hands before choosing the axe, "Willy didn't say exactly when they'd get here but I figure it'd be better if we got to the motels sooner rather than later."

"Smart." Oz commented as he followed Xander's example before choosing the mace that the Xan-man had discarded earlier.

After the group kitted themselves out with a few other demon hunting necessities, such as holy items and snack food, they hopped into Cordy's car and headed for the patch of motels at the east end of town. All in all it was a pretty good place to set up a defense watch, since the number of civilian casualties would be pretty much restricted to motel staff and the odd tourist. Anyone who lived in Sunnydale knew that the motels were not the best place for guests to stay, so if they ever had relatives or loved ones coming they made sure there was enough room in their own homes. For people just passing through, the hellmouth was close enough to L.A that most people just drive right on through so that pretty much left the people who had never been in this area before and thus knew nothing about Sunnydale. Thankfully people ignorant about the state of California also tended to be less than thorough on their examinations of maps and thus often didn't see the town on the map, causing them to just drive on by to L.A. Still, there were always a few people unlucky enough to choose to stay in the hotels but hopefully they'd have the sense to stay in when the fighting started.

Twenty minutes later they were right at the edge of the town where the motels started cropping up and dispersed to the spots they agreed upon on the ride over. Cordy and Willow would take positions on the second levels of the motels and pick targets of opportunity with their crossbows while staying at a safe distance. They, of course, had either a club or a short sword with them in case things got up close and personal, but if he, as well as Oz, did their jobs right, it wouldn't be necessary for them to get their hands dirty. He and Oz would be on the ground level, handling the hellhounds up close and personal while using the environment to keep from getting into a dog pile situation. Dumpsters, nearby parked cars, fences and other things in the area would be good for giving them some breathing room from time to time if things got a little too tense. Willy hadn't been too specific about how many hellhounds were heading their way but he did say that the people transporting them had either killed or captured the majority of them. Hopefully that meant no more than ten or so, since anything more would complicate things both in terms of containment as well as eventually killing them.

Cordy didn't start complaining and asking 'are they here yet' for about twenty minutes, which had to be a record since on past stakeouts, she'd started bitching within ten. However it was at the twenty-five minute mark that something seemed to catch Oz's attention as the werewolf began taking deep sniffs of the air. While the bass player might not have as keen a nose as a human when compared to his werewolf state the musician could pick up more than your average person.

"What's up, Oz?"

"Wind shifted. I think they're almost here." Oz replied in his usual ten words or less manner.

"Good. Heads up guys!" He yelled in order to make sure both Cordy and Willow were prepared, "The game's afoot!"

Without even bothering to listen for a response he brought his axe up into a ready position and kept his eyes peeled for any sign of the hellhounds. Considering they were little more than mindless beasts, he figured he'd hear them coming before too long since they didn't have the intellect to keep quiet. His bet was right since, four minutes later, he could hear the growling and yipping of the hellhounds getting louder and louder. It wasn't more than a minute later that his eyes picked them up as well as a mass of brown fur was rambling down the road that led into town. When they got close enough for him to do a head count, he found that there were actually thirteen hellhounds in total running in a single pack. A few more than he'd been hoping for but still not beyond what the four of them could handle so long as they were careful about it.

He didn't have to wait long before both Willow and Cordy began to rain down arrows on the pack but while they did score some pretty good hits, it was also obvious that they needed to work on their aim. Cordy managed to hit her target three out of five shots but Willow was fortunate if she managed to make two out of every five arrows find their mark. Pretty soon he was forced to give up observing his friends' slaying abilities and start using his own to stay alive. Evading a lunge by the lead hellhound, he wound up and swung his axe like a golf club and managed to bury it into the side of the beast, almost cleaving it in two. Wrenching it free, he barely managed to smack another demon with the flat side of it and quickly decided to retreat to a position where he wouldn't have to face more than three at a time. Moving along just quick enough to stay ahead of the ones pursuing him, but not so quick that they'd lose interest, he placed himself at the entrance to an alley nearby.

No sooner did he turn around to face them then two of the five that went after him leapt right at him with claws out and fangs bared. Not able to swing the axe, he brought it up into a guard position in order to keep the hounds from succeeding in cutting him open or drawing blood. Using their lack of secure footing and his greatly improved upper body strength, he managed to divert the two to the side throwing them into the brick wall of the alley. Kicking one of the dazed hellhounds in the head in order to keep it down for a few more minutes, he then swung at the third of five hellhound, managing to take its head off in one swing. The disorientation of two of their number and the slaying of a third made the remaining two hellhounds more cautious, since even in their dim minds they knew strong prey when they saw it. Deciding to use their hesitation to his advantage, he quickly used the axe to kill the two that he had tossed into the wall and were only now getting back to their feet. This was almost enough to get the remaining two to try their luck but he had been quick enough about it that he was able to get his axe back up in time to make them rethink their idea. Deciding that the odds were enough in his favor that he could spare a look around, he saw that like him Oz had relocated to a more defendable position. There were still three hellhounds looking to make a meal out of him, but he didn't see any signs of the musician needing immediate back up.

He was just about to deal with the final two on his side when out of nowhere someone shot both of the hellhounds in front of him with some kind of dart. Looking up at the two-that-were-three that Oz was facing off against, he saw that they too had been hit with a dart a piece. At first, as he watched the four hellhounds, both his and Oz's, begin to stumble backwards, like his father used to after about four cases of beer, with what he thought perhaps were tranquilizer darts. However that thought quickly became almost laughable as in the space of ten seconds, all four demons hit with the dart began to grow bigger one limb at a time, as if whatever they had been injected with needed to reach a part of the body before enlarging it, the limbs of the hounds doubled and then tripled in size. With every change in size, the hellhounds cried out in pain making it clear that their transformation was absolute torture to go through and, by the time they finally seemed to settle on a size, none of the demons were in a good mood.

_Assuming of course they were in any other kind of mood to begin with! _He thought with mounting fear and confusion, _This __**is NOT good!**_

In fact one might call four hellhounds the size of **tour buses** to be very, very, **very bad** indeed! Looking down at the axe in his hand and then back up at the very pissed off hellhounds that, lucky for him, were too big to squeeze into the alleyway with him. Needless to say he quickly became aware of the tactical disadvantage he and the other Scoobies were at. The arrows that Willow and Cordy had at their disposal had become equally useless, since they were now the size of splinters compared to the hellhounds. All in all, making a run for it was the only sane option for the four of them, but with the girls up on the second levels of nearby motels, they would have a hard time getting to safety. With the distance the demons could now cover thanks to their increased size, there was no way that the two teenage bombshells could make it to ground level **and** make a run for it before they were overtaken. Add to that the fact that it would only be a matter of time before the dumb dogs figured out they would stand a better chance of getting some Willowy and Queen C munchies if they put their front paws up on the second level and things were not looking good.

_Gotta distract 'em long enough for the girls to at least get to ground level if not a few blocks away!_ He thought to himself as he dug around in his pockets and utility belt (Queen C had argued with him for over an hour about calling it that) for anything that could keep the now eighteen-wheeler sized mutts distracted for a while.

All he could come up with was a bottle of holy water and a single can of tear gas that he kept hidden in the back from the gang. The former was always readily available but the other had been a… donation… from the back of Detective Stein's car when the asshole was asleep in bed. Both would be good distractions even if he wasn't entirely certain what effect if any the holy water would have on the hellhounds.

_Oh well! No time like the present to find out!_ He thought as he pulled the pin on the tear gas grenade and lobbed it up as well as at the faces of the two hellhounds in front of him.

With a poof of exploding gas, the immediate area was soon filled with fumes and aromas guaranteed to make breathing difficult and eyes water. It did the job, though, as it caused both hellhounds to back pedal a few steps and howl in discomfort as their vision as well as their breathing became impaired. Pulling his shirt up in a futile hope to filter at least some of the gases, he backed up and thought of ways to put the holy water he still had to good use.

Once he was reasonably certain that an opening had been made for him to pass between the two disoriented giant hellhounds, he charged forward, managing to clear the cloud five seconds later. What greeted him though was his worst fear after seeing the enemy grow to such a ridiculous degree and that was one of the enlarged hellhounds finally getting the idea to use its paws to get at Willow. Not even bothering to uncork the bottle, he just threw it with everything he had at the hellhound and watched with satisfaction as it shattered on the beast's hide. In under a second he had his answer as to how effective holy water would be on the hellhounds as the demon's skin began to burn away as though it had been touched by acid. Also, not only did it cause the hellhound to break off its hostilities towards Willow, but it also ate away a portion of the beast's hind leg and that would limit the creature's mobility significantly. All in all, he had pretty much succeeded in distracting the beasts but they would have to move quickly if they wanted to get out of the area in one piece.

"Let's get outta here!!" He yelled at both Cordy and Willow as he ran up to join Oz.

Needless to say none of them needed to be told twice and once they hooked up, all of them made for Cordy's car as fast as their feet could carry them. They were almost there when, out of nowhere, some kind of energy blast akin to one seen in a movie flashed down from a nearby rooftop and blew Queen C's car to bits. The girls had been closer at the time since, by unconscious decision, both he and Oz had taken the job of being the rear guards just in case the hellhounds caught their heads on straight sooner than later. As such, while the girls were knocked silly by the explosion, he and Oz were only a little dazed with their arms covering their faces to protect them from debris. When the sound of the blast had faded, he dropped his arms and stared in dismay at the sight before him, since whoever had blown up the car had also demolished the quickest way of putting some distance between the Scoobies and the hellhounds. Said hellhounds were at the moment starting to look in the direction of their fleeing meals and he knew it wouldn't be long before they loped on over. Grabbing the girls and trying to escape on foot wouldn't work because both he and Oz would be reduced to at least three quarters of their normal top ground speeds and with their unnaturally longer legs, the hellhounds would be able to cover easily four times the distance they had before their growth spurts. In short, they'd either die in ten seconds when the abnormally large hellhounds charged over and chowed down or they'd die in two minutes when their attempts to flee wound up being cut short.

In short they **were SO screwed!**

Determined not to go down without a fight, he brought his axe up and prepared himself for what was most certainly going to be a painful end to his meager existence. He knew he'd probably get one or two swings in before claws and teeth made another impossible. The same would probably hold true for Oz but looking in the bass player's direction, the fact that he'd be dead soon did nothing to keep the teenager from standing in defense of the people he called friend. With grim smiles of two brothers in arms, they prepared themselves for the coming storm of fangs and claws that would be coming their way soon.

With a howl of anger the hellhounds spotted their prey and, with all the determination of starving animals sensing food, the beasts charged forward. Well, three of the four did, but the last one could only hobble forward slowly, given that one of its back legs had been made pretty much useless. Whether it was three or four, though, didn't really matter because it still meant that certain death was coming the Scoobies' way with nothing known able to stop it. Despite his resolve to defend his friends to the very end, to deny death anyone else close to him, fear began to course through his veins with death getting closer with every tick of the clock. He was ready to die if needed, he was willing to give up his life so long as the sacrifice had meaning, but the more he looked at it, the more he saw that the only difference he'd make here is making the hellhounds a little less hungry when they were done with him. They'd still likely go on a rampage through Sunnydale, devouring whatever caught their attention, until their bellies were full and fatigue began to set in. In short the sacrifice the Scoobies made here tonight would mean little in the grand scheme of things.

That didn't sit well with him one little bit!

He knew that their fight against the demonic darkness of Sunnydale would largely go unnoticed and that only the demons would really remember what they did, but at least up until now they'd had the comfort of knowing that they'd made a difference. Even if no one knew but them, they had saved the world at least a dozen times since Buffy had come to town saving billions of lives. Just knowing that had made all their aches and pains worth it in the end. To know that it was all about to come to an end simply because some unknown people had seen fit to super size their problem and blow up their escape vehicle pissed him off! If it wasn't for the fact that he was certain to die in a few seconds, he'd make it a personal mission of his to find whoever had screwed things up and introduce them to their colon. By the time the hellhounds had reached optimum pouncing distance, his emotions hit their peak with rage and a desire for these monstrosities to meet with a sudden end at the forefront of his mind. He could almost imagine seeing them get impaled on very large pikes from all directions until they were turned into hairy pincushions.

He wanted that to happen to them.

He **DEMANDED** that that happen to them!

Vaguely recalling at the moment how someone or something had intervened saving him from the vampire earlier, he sent out a thunderous mental cry for that being to step in once again.

Like lightning, spears of light shot from the now-lit lampposts arranged up and down the streets, piercing the oncoming demons from every available direction. They weren't perfectly formed spears, but they matched the dimensions of the weapon in terms of length, width and height almost exactly. He himself was shocked into complete stillness, both physically as well as mentally, at the swift response he'd received from his command for aid. What struck him as odd though was that the aid had come in the form he'd desired as well which come to think of it had been the way it had occurred with the vamp as well. Was the being that had helped him twice so far been reading his mind? Whatever the case, the collapsing bodies of the hellhounds, and the vibrations that sent through the street, brought him back to the here and now. Looking at the slain hellhounds, he watched as the spears of light that had killed them fade into nothingness right before his eyes. It was also about then that the smell of exposed hound guts hit his nose ,causing him to physically recoil at the foul smell.

"That was…unexpected." Oz stated as he watched the downed hellhounds carefully as though he expected them to get back up any minute now.

"Definitely." He said in agreement.

"Do we want to wait around and see who helped the hellhounds?" Oz asked like he was inquiring about what to put on a pizza they were ordering.

"I'm thinking 'no'. You?" He asked Oz as he glanced back at the girls, whose heads were clearing up nicely.

"Not really." Oz replied with a slight negative shake of his head.

With that they helped the girls to their feet and began to make their way back to Giles' place on foot to report on what had happened. If there was someone out there that could chemically enlarge demons to dangerous sizes, they needed to find out who that was and stop them **immediately**.

Just imagining super large vampires filled him with a feeling that was most definitely of the bad.

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On a Rooftop a Short Distance Away, Same Time 

_Most interesting. It would seem that my weeks of observing the Slayer's rabble have not been a waste after all._ Nathaniel Essex thought to himself as he watched the quartet of teenagers walk quickly away from the battlefield.

This was a surprise, since the primary reason why he had come to the hellmouth was in the hopes of acquiring the blonde Slayer for study. Unlike most superstitious fools, he was not content to simply accept the 'higher power' or 'magic' explanation for the Slayer's potent abilities. It was his intention to explore the more scientific possibilities through rigorous genetic testing along with his more successful means of experimentation. It was his theory at the moment that the so called 'Shadow Men' that supposedly started the Slayer line all those years ago had actually used an unknown form of retro-virus or perhaps technology similar to what his ancient benefactor had used to enhance him a century ago. Both were acceptable possibilities for increased physical abilities, tactile instinctive knowledge of basic weaponry and the passing on of the abilities once the previous matron had died. As for the 'prophetic visions', those could be explained away by some telepaths and their over inflated egos with access to an information network that kept them apprised of events in the demon community. The fact that those visions came to pass with surprising accuracy merely meant that the fools were smart enough to keep what they sent the girl vague enough to make her dismiss any inconsistencies.

However, when he had arrived in Sunnydale a month ago, he had been discouraged to hear that the current Slayer had fled the town with her current location unknown to all, including her closest friends. This was a little odd, as it conflicted with the behavior exhibited by most Slayers, but he soon decided it was likely because most Slayers were trained from a young age by the England-based Watcher's Council. From what he had gleaned from the Watchers he had 'interviewed', the Slayers they found had words like duty, obedience and modesty pounded into their minds until that was all that existed. For Ms. Summers, on the other hand, there had been a full fifteen years of life as an ordinary girl before the burden of being Called was thrust upon her. With such a loose hold on her mind, it was little surprise that she chose to run from the thing that had taken her undead paramour from her. After all, it was a fact that humans denied what didn't fit with their view of the world and avoided what caused them pain.

Still it had left him with something of a dilemma as to what to do with all the free time he had found himself with upon learning of the absence of Ms. Summers. In the end he had decided that he would wait until the fall in the hopes that some shred of duty would lure the Slayer back to Sunnydale. Until she did, he felt he could pass the time by investigating the more unique residents of the town and keeping an eye on the self-proclaimed 'Scooby gang'. It was a proven fact that like attracted like and so it was not inconceivable that people that fought alongside the Slayer might possess abilities of interest as well. This was quickly proven to be true when he observed Willow Rosenberg exhibit intriguing abilities, not the least of which was an aptitude for telekinetics. Mr. Osborne, on the other hand, was infected with the lycanthropy virus he had been keeping tabs on since he had become aware of it. However, aside from increased natural senses when in his human state, the young musician possessed nothing of further interest to him. The Watcher he'd disregarded almost immediately, since he already knew what to expect from someone with that occupation and did not believe there was anything further to learn. The same disregard was visited upon Ms. Chase for while she was possessed an appearance greater than her peers, she possessed no unique abilities whatsoever. Mr. Harris had almost had the same judgment passed on him earlier this very day but what he had observed in the young man's confrontation with the vampire changed that.

_A most interesting ability you have, Mr. Harris._ He thought to himself as he began to walk away from the scene of his latest experiment.

In the closing moments of the confrontation with the vampire, it had seemed certain that the boy was about to perish and become just another victim of the hellmouth. However fate it seemed had chosen to intervene and in a process almost too quick to be perceived light from the rays given off by the sun converged to form a sharp shard of light before flying through the air and impaling the vampire through the heart. For a moment he wondered whether or not the boy had something to do with the fascinating occurrence but it had been clear by the young man's vacant expression after the vampire's demise that he was clueless about what had transpired beyond the obvious. That had led to his injecting the hellhounds with his growth mutagen and destroying the group's sole means of escaping the enlarged beasts. He wanted to see whether or not the boy truly was the cause of the light based weapons or if some other force was intervening on the boy's behalf.

_Given that none of the equipment I placed in the surrounding area detected anything unusual before, during or after the battle I believe it is safe to say that young Mr. Harris is indeed responsible._ He thought as he triggered the teleportation recall button on his belt, _Welcome to a brand new world Alexander Harris. I look forward to seeing how you develop in the years to come._

With a sinister laugh and a flash of light the man known as Nathaniel Essex vanished from sight.

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End file.
